Tournament of Legends
by Apollo the Drell
Summary: I have decided to write a series of battles between champions, and the readers decide who they wish to see! In this tournament-style writing, you will see readers' picks battling it out on the Fields of Judgement! Rated M for violence, blood, and coarse language.
1. The League Disbands

The League of Legends has disbanded.

Disputes among the provinces of Valoran were waning, slowly but surely, and the idea of Summoners wielding Champions to settle arguments became obsolete. The Champions were deemed too dangerous to be let free into society by the remnants of the League. The League attempted to come to a resolution allowing as few Champions to live as possible. They decided that their work did not allow them to willingly kill Champions, so the League evolved into a new organization. The Tournament of Legends was formed to find the most efficient method to do away with the Champions.

Headed by a board of representatives from all states of Valoran, the Tournament of Legends would pit Champions in one-on-one, three-on-three, or five-on-five battles. In the end, there will be only one Champion left, and the threat to Valoran peace will be minimized. The first match was determined at random, and then suggestions for matches were taken in by polling across Valoran, asking which Champions should face-off on the Fields of Justice.

For one-on-one matches, minions and turrets were deemed unnecessary, and the shop was closed entirely; all one-on-one matches are held in the Proving Grounds. For three-versus-three match-ups, minions are in play, the turrets are still inoperable, and the store is open after a set amount of time, each minion kill garnering gold on each Champions credit; each three-versus-three is held in the Twisted Treeline. Five-versus-five brawls include turret fire, minions, and the shop open at all times; five-versus-five brawls take place in Summoner's Rift.

The Tournament itself would be held in three distinct acts: the first act would consist of "warm-up" matches between Champions in which none would be killed. In the second wave of battles, some Champions will die very excruciating deaths. In the third round, most Champions will be eliminated, and the matches will be narrowed down to mostly one-on-one fights until the finale. The Final Fight will consist of a free-for-all composed of ten surviving Champions fighting to the death until one is crowned the Victor.

The first match was decided randomly by the board, and was set as a one-on-one match-up between Mordekaiser, the Master of Metal, and Pantheon, the Artisan of War.

**Author's Note: This was pretty much a hold-over chapter to keep you guys interested and informed. Please be patient with these battles, as school is killing me X.X Thanks for your understanding, and best of luck on the Fields of Justice!**

**Also, I own none of this, LoL is owned by Riot Games Inc. and I only write based off of their lore because I have too much time on my hands.**


	2. Art meets Metal

Mordekaiser was at a Pentakill rehearsal when he received the news. He announced to Karthus, Olaf, Sona, and Yorick that the League collapsed, garnering a violent toss of a drum set by Olaf. "How dare they sentence us all to death," he shouted.

"Well," Mordekaiser calmly replied, "it seems they are only sending me to my death today. I assume the rest of you will be next." He looked all of them in the eyes (except for Yorick—the undertaker still creeped Mordekaiser out), trying to calm them down.

Though she could not say anything, Mordekaiser could tell Sona was worried. He placed a reassuring gauntlet on her shoulder. "I was only kidding, Sona. Whoever I face in battle is the one who will die, not I."

Mordekaiser placed his guitar on the ground, switching it for his trusty mace. He gave one final look around the room. "I will see you all at rehearsal tomorrow evening," he said. Olaf, still steaming with rage, nodded. Sona flashed a worried smile. Yorick grunted in acknowledgment. Karthus mirrored Olaf, nodding in approval.

Mordekaiser smiled under his helmet, and left for his battle with the Artisan of War.

Pantheon was having a friendly sparring match with Leona when the news reached him. He had heard of the collapse of the League, and predicted he would soon face the chopping block. Leona was concerned for him, but he reassured her, "Whomever it is I face in battle will die by my spear, don't you worry."

Her look was one of worry. "Just…be careful, would you? Mordekaiser is not a foe to be taken lightly."

Pantheon shrugged off the warning. "Well, he had better be a worthy opponent; my spear should not be tainted with unworthy blood."

A smile tugged at Leona's lips. "Never one to change, are you, Pantheon?"

He shook his head. "Never."

"Still want to be a baker?"

Pantheon smiled. "Always."

Leona laughed. "You better come home, Pantheon. I would be short a great sparring partner if you died."

Pantheon nodded and grabbed his spear. "I promise I'll come back. Then we can finish our sparring match.

And with that, he left to his battle with the Master of Metal.

The Proving Grounds seemed different from last Pantheon saw it. To start, it was no longer a constricted, one-lane path of stone. Now, it was redesigned to be more of a maze. _They wish to see us scurry around like rats._

It had a gate, barred shut, and stone walls that seemed to enclose most of what used to be the single-laned Field of Justice. Pantheon approached with caution, fearing that the gate would burst open to reveal Mordekaiser. It swung open with no Mordekaiser waiting on the other side. Pantheon let out a sigh of relief, and entered the newly redesigned Proving Grounds.

As soon as he entered the maze, the gate slammed shut. "Guess I'm not going back the way I came," he muttered. He cautiously weaved in and out of different hallways in the maze, until he came to a wide hallway leading to another gate.

He was focused so much on the path in front of him that he never noticed Mordekaiser's mace come from a side pathway.

The mace struck Pantheon center-mass and sent him flying backwards. He quickly recovered, landing on his feet. Mordekaiser stepped out from the side hallway.

He laughed and pointed his mace at Pantheon. "I thought you would be more vigilant than that, Pantheon. Let us hope that doesn't spell out how the rest of this battle will unfold."

Pantheon leaped forward, bashing his shield into the Master of Metal's helmet. Mordekaiser was thrown off balance, and left open for five consecutive attacks. Unfortunately for Pantheon, Mordekaiser quickly recovered, swinging his mace at his opponent. He missed and hit the wall beside Pantheon, sending sparks from the mace at him.

Pantheon felt the sparks surge through his body, racking every muscle with a tight pain. He fell to his knees, much to Mordekaiser's content. Mordekaiser loomed over the kneeling Pantheon.

"Well, here I thought the Artisan of War would be a more worthy opponent than this," Mordekaiser taunted. "Ah well, onto the next opponent, I think." He lifted his mace above his head, ready to deliver one more crushing blow.

Pantheon lifted his shield to block the blow out of instinct, and it was summarily broken in half. Blood ran down Pantheon's arm as shards from his shield flew all around him. Adrenaline coursed through his veins, allowing him to quickly stand and place three small strikes in the giant man's torso, trying to find his heart so the battle would end.

Before Pantheon could strike Mordekaiser's heart, he felt something small, something sharp—something metal—scratch against is skin. Another shard. And more shards still. He drew back and saw his arms, legs and face were covered in small cuts. "What the…" Pantheon whispered as he heard Mordekaiser laughing. He saw shining objects floating in the air around Mordekaiser.

"Like that, do you? Metal shards. They're my only strictly defensive ability." The shards disappeared. "I can't maintain the field for very long. Good news for you, I suppose." He wiped the blood from his chest plate. "You got me good, I won't lie. But I also got you pretty good, didn't I?"

Pantheon nodded. "You truly are a worthy opponent. I am honored to have you bloody my spear."

"And I am honored to have you bloody my mace. You know, normal men would be dead after all the punishment we've endured."

"Yes, it just goes to show why they want us dead. If we truly wanted, we might be able to take over the continent."

Mordekaiser smiled under his helmet. "Yes, we could." He raised his mace. "But unfortunately for you, Artisan, your path ends here!" He meant to make the next blow the fatal one, but he paused when he saw Pantheon charging at him at full speed.

Mordekaiser prepared for a direct hit from the Artisan of War's spear, but much to his surprise, Pantheon wasn't charging at him like he had thought. Instead, Pantheon leaped onto a wall, bounced to the next wall, and launched himself into the air.

Mordekaiser realized what Pantheon was doing too late. He tried to roll out of the way, but his gargantuan frame wouldn't allow him to. Pantheon came down from the air, slamming his spear into the ground with so much might, that he tore down six hallways in the maze, and quite nearly tore off Mordekaiser's legs.

Mordekaiser was beaten and bloodied, crawling on the ground to try and reach his mace to counterattack, but Pantheon, equally battered, placed a firm foot on the giant's back. "Give up, Mordekaiser, I have won."

Mordekaiser had enough strength to throw the smaller man off of him and lunged for his mace. He stood, poised to strike one final blow. "You think you've won? Really? You think that cheap trick finished me? _ME?! THE MASTER OF METAL?!_"

Pantheon shook his head. "No. But this one will."

Mordekaiser let the mace slump just an inch, and tilted his head out of confusion. Again, he realized too late what Pantheon meant. He only realized after the spear had left Pantheon's hands, and planted itself into Mordekaiser's chest.

"Well played, Pantheon," he panted, "You truly make war…an art." He laughed as if what he said were a joke, and fell onto his back, a pool of blood forming underneath his motionless body.

Pantheon hobbled over to the giant, and pulled the spear from its newly found home. He had enough strength left to raise the spear and shout in victory. His spear then fell from his hands, and the Artisan of War fell over on top of his defeated opponent.

Pantheon could feel the subtle rise and fall of Mordekaiser's chest, and hear the faint beating of his heart. "So even after all that, you're still alive. You truly are a worthy opponent, Mordekaiser, Master of Metal."

Mordekaiser whispered in reply: "As are you, Pantheon, Artisan of War."

Both men laughed, not knowing which had won or lost as they both slipped into unconsciousness, and were taken from the Proving Grounds.

They were more battered and beaten and bloodied than any other Champion that has left the Fields of Justice before.

**Author's Note: Okay, it may not have been my best work yet (actually I know it wasn't) but I'm happy with it. Now that Pantheon and Mordekaiser have beaten each other to a pulp, who do you guys wanna see fight next? I've gotten some cool requests so far, but I want a few more ideas before I commit to anything.**

**P.S. Pantheon **_**so**_** won :P**


	3. Fratricide

***Author's Note* Hey guys! Long time no see. Seeing as I finally finished high school and have more time on my hands I can get back into these. I've missed doing this a lot, I really have, and I hope you guys like this one.**

Pantheon woke with a start, instinctively grabbing with his right hand for his spear. When his hand was intercepted by a familiar, warm one, he knew he wasn't back in Ionia. He sat up and turned to face Leona, who was sitting at his side for what was probably a few days. She smiled warmly and handed him his helmet.

He took his helmet, nodded and said, "Thank you…Where am I?"  
"A hospital in the Institute of War that has been set up for the victors of these fight-to-the-death matches," She replied with a bit of a sigh. "I was worried you wouldn't make it through the first night."

"First night? How long have I been out?"

She took a moment to think. "This would've been the fourth night so….three days."

H put his helmet back on. "Have I missed any battles?"

Leona shook her head. "No, they wanted to make sure at least one of you would survive before moving on to another battle. You two were torn to ribbons by the end, you know."

He felt a surge of pain in his chest where the Master of Metal had nailed him with his mace. "Yes, I remember that much." Something clicked in his brain. "So wait…Mordekaiser is…?"

She shook her head. "You both were in shambles when you came, and yet miraculously both of you survived. He is in the room just down the hall." She pointed a slender finger to the door.

"Good, I wish to see him." He threw the blanket from his lap and tried to turn his body around, but felt no response from his legs.

He sharply turned his head to Leona for an explanation, but she was staring blankly at the floor. "Leona, what sorcery is this that I can't move my legs?" He said in a quiet but furious whisper.

She didn't remove her gaze from the floor. "Remember that blow you took from his mace?" He nodded, not quite understanding the connection. "Well…when that strike connected, he…"

He leaned in as far as he could, his face inches from hers. "He did what?"

She looked at him with sympathetic eyes. "He knocked a vertebrae out of alignment. The doctors were surprised you walked at all, let alone fought—and damn near won—against Mordekaiser. Pantheon," she said, firmly grasping his hand in both of hers, "they say you won't be able to walk again."

Pantheon was speechless. A simple "W-what?" was all he could manage to say in response.

"They tried all the healing magics they have, and every practical medicine available to them. Soraka tried to replace the vertebrae, and Singed even tried making a potion to heal you. Nobody could fix it, no matter how much they tried. I'm sorry, Pantheon."

"So, though we both survive, Mordekaiser was, in fact, the victor?" Pantheon bowed his head in acceptance. His body began to tremble, and Leona thought that, for the first time in his adult life, Pantheon was crying. He emitted quiet noises with every few shakes and shudders, but what seemed to be crying turned into hearty laughter.

He picked his head up, laughing hysterically, and looked upon Leona's now confused face. "I knew that bastard would manage to sneak a win right under my nose!"

Leona's face went from confusion to happiness as she smiled at Pantheon. "You're taking this a lot better than I expected, Pantheon."

He laughed. "I'm sure the reality of this will hit me eventually, but for now, I'm happy Mordekaiser won and not me. I did not wish to have the chance of fighting allies, or even close friends." He looked at Leona. "I can't imagine I would be able to fight you, Leona. Not whole-heartedly at least."

She released his hand from hers. "Well, aren't you sweet?" She paused, not quite sure what to say. After a few moments she began to giggle, and it was Pantheon's turn to look confused.

"And what is so funny, Leona?"

"I was just thinking," She said between giggles, "that maybe we could find a nice bakery for you to work for in Ionia."

Pantheon chewed on that thought and smiled. "I suppose there's a silver lining to everything, isn't there?"

_The drawings for the next Tournament match-up will be announced in five minutes, repeat, five minutes until the next contenders in the tournament are announced._

"What in blazes was that?" Pantheon said, scanning the room for other people, seeing only a screen displaying his and Mordekaiser's faces in the corner of the room.

Leona placed a gentle hand on his chest. "It's something they installed while you were out. It's an invention from Piltover that allows us to see inside the Fields of Justice and spectate other Champions' battles. They've been using it to announce the status of you and Mordekaiser for the past two days now."

"So if what it says is true," Pantheon surmised, "then the next pair of combatants is to be announced soon."

She nodded. "It could be a pair, or it could be a set of trios, or sets of five. The Proving grounds, Twisted Treeline, _and_ Summoner's Rift are all eligible for battles."

"Well, that's news to me." He looked at the screen to see the portrait of every Champion (save him and Mordekaiser) flashing very quickly, like a roulette wheel.

"So, the members of the League, the high-ups I mean, don't even know who will fight next?" Pantheon asked, scratching his head.

"I'm sure they do; the people of Valoran all voted on who they wished to see in the Fields. They just make it seem random for tension's sake."

"Sh, they're announcing who's next!"

* * *

Draven was plotting the best way to end his next execution when the announcement came over that damned Piltovian machine. He wasn't surprised to see his own face show up first, as he knew the people of Valoran would love to see Draven make his former fellow Champions his bitches. Although, he was thoroughly surprised to see his opponent.

His brother, Darius.

He was to fight Darius in the Proving Grounds.

_Excellent_, he thought, a smile creeping onto his face. He picked up one blade from the sheath he had made, and began twirling it in his hand.

"I've always wanted to test my might against a fellow Noxian," he mused out loud, "but I never suspected I would get the chance in the form of my brother. Very interesting, Valoran. Amusing as well, I suppose."

He twirled his blade for a few minutes more before thinking of the perfect way to end his last execution before being taken to the Proving Grounds to commit the worst of sins:

Fratricide.

* * *

Darius had just returned to his estate in Noxus from a meeting with his ally Jericho Swain when he heard the news. His reaction was minimal, simply a snort and scowl, as was his reaction to most things. He retrieved his axe from his armory, and left for the Institute of War with only one thought:

_Finally._

* * *

The maze from the Proving grounds had gone, and in its place was something more true to the original layout of the arena: a long, single lane with virtually no cover or bushes, and no way to dodge any sort of close-rage attack.

Upon seeing this, Draven smiled and began twirling one of his blades. "Well," he said to thin air, "this will be interesting."

Draven could see his brother, or at least where he was being kept before the match began. Both brothers were kept in large steel cages to let them prepare for the match. Draven's cage was bare, allowing him to devise brilliant ways of executing his brother.

Due to the special circumstances of this match, Draven carried a third blade in a sheath on his back. It was designed to be used more for close-combat, but was also able to be thrown short distances as with his other axes. He also had armor on instead of his usual light shirt and trousers. The gate for his cage opened, and he stepped out to face his brother. Darius slowly marched out into the lane, and Draven could feel his brother's stare digging a hole in his soul.

The two stepped to the center of the battlefield, blankly staring at each other. Darius was the first to break the silence.

"Don't be weak, it would only bring shame to Noxus," he said coldly.

Draven laughed. "Same to you, brother. I would hate for this battle to be boring for the people of Valoran."

Darius raised his axe. "Enough talk. We fight for the pride of Noxus."

Draven raised one of his axes and tapped Darius's with it. "Always were a man of few words, weren't you, brother?"

Darius raised his axe over his head and snarled. "And you have always been a man of too many. Now, prepare yourself!"

Draven smiled, and quickly jumped back, avoiding the crushing blow of his brother's axe. He began spinning an axe and taunting Darius. "What? Does talking distract you from the fight at hand, brother?"

Darius hurled the head of his axe towards Draven, catching pommel in his hand and Draven's neck in the crevice between the blade and shaft. He pulled the axe, bringing Draven to an uncomfortably close distance.

"Today we are not brothers. Today, we are two combatants, charged with killing each other for no good reason," he whispered.

Draven furrowed his brow. "No good reason? What has gotten into you, brother, you love killing senselessly!"

Darius glared at Draven, releasing his neck from the axe. "There is a difference between senselessly and needlessly, fool."

Draven arched an eyebrow in confusion but quickly shrugged off the statement. "Whatever, just fight me, brother, I would hate to keep the good people of Valoran waiting!" He quickly tumbled backwards, began spinning an axe, and threw it at his brother with killing intention.

Darius deflected the axe with his own, sending it flying back into the air. Draven had positioned himself ever-so-precisely and caught the axe before it hit the ground, allowing it to keep its momentum and continue spinning. Darius then charged at him, both hands holding his axe for what Draven assumed to be a harder strike than usual. Darius stopped a few feet from him, and spun half-circle, gashing into Draven's gut.

Draven hunched forward and clutched at his wound. When Draven raised his head to face his brother again, Darius had begun another spin, this one full-circle, and hit Draven straight in the face with the side of his axe.

Draven was spun around with this, and ended up on his hands and knees, his back facing Darius. He wiped the blood from his mouth, and smiled. He stood, turned to face his brother and said, "Now you've awakened the beast."

Draven's eyes turned into a deep red, and his muscles seemed to become more defined, perhaps even larger. He began spinning his axes again, and threw them at his brother in unison. Darius blocked these again with his axe, but they knocked him to the side, putting him off-balance. Draven moved from his prior position to that of Darius so quickly it seemed like he was a spirit.

He drew his third axe—as his other two were still flying to the end of the lane—and chuckled at his brother's confusion. "Don't look so shocked, brother, after all, you're the one who helped me master my Blood Rush." He cackled and swung his axe in a wide arc, barely making a chip in his brother's armor.

Darius gritted his teeth and backed up a few feet. "I don't want to do this, brother, just remember that."

Draven gave him a skeptical look. "You of all people don't want to kill me?"

Darius responded with silence. He subtly bent his knees, and launched himself into the air, axe raised above his head. Draven knew this was coming, the famous "Noxian Guillotine", but he was ready. He knew his axe wouldn't block the attack, and he knew he couldn't dodge it completely, so he had to cut his losses. He sidestepped, assuring the axe wouldn't slice him in half, but when it made contact with his shoulder, it hurt like Holy Hell.

The axe went smoothly through his shoulder, severing his arm as if it was nothing.

Draven screamed in agony, clutching at where his arm once was. Darius simply stared at him with pity in his eyes, a look Draven had rarely seen from any Noxian, let alone his own brother.

Darius let his axe slump to his side. "It is over, brother. I have won, and you have lost. Surrender, and perhaps they will let you live."

Draven lifted his head and revealed a huge grin on his face. "You seem to forget, brother, that I design my axes to always come back to me."

Darius processed this and a grim look of realization came upon him. He quickly turned to see that Draven's axes from his last throw were flying back at him. He tred to jump over the low-flying axes, but could not because of his heavy armor, allowing both of the axes to strike his legs, forcing him to fall forward, face-first onto the ground.

Draven slowly lumbered over to his brother's motionless body. He picked up one of the axes from the ground, and raised it over his head. "Now, brother, before we both bleed out I would like to say something: If I am declared the victor, and move on in thei Tournament, I swear to you that this will become _THE LEAGUE OF DRAVEN!_"

Then everything went black.

***Author's Note* Well, there you have it, another cliffhanger ending xD Yes I plan on making all of these cliffhangers. Sorry about the bad representation of Draven's blood rush and difficulty of differentiating between Darius's Q and W, but I figured their animations are so similar that it didn't really matter which was which. Kinda the best I could come up with when representing their skills. Also, a couple announcements: I love The Last Of Us (obviously) So, I'm going to start something in that field in the form of the multiplayer component. Meaning, I'm going to make a story centered around a clan of Hunters and a clan of Fireflies and their war. I can't come up with that many characters on my own, so inbox me some ideas for charactes if you like, if not I'll do my best. Also, my Mass Effect fanfics should be getting a much needed update in a short while, I just need to fine tune that. Lastly, send me more ideas for match ups for League Champions! I know this was a long note but it's been a while! I missed you guys! Hope you enjoyed it!**

**-Apollo**


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